Ice
by ttfan111robstar1
Summary: The one year anniversary of Steve going into the ice is fast approaching, and little Steve is terrified. Join Natasha, Bruce and all your other favorite Avengers as they help Steve through it. Rated M for infantilism. Third installment of the "Voices" series.
1. Night

**A/N: Hey all! It's good to be back with another Baby Steve fic! It's one of my favorite plots! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I do!**

Natasha awoke to the sounds of quiet sobs coming from the room. Opening heavy eyelids, she got up from the rocking chair she'd been sitting in and made her way to the oversized crib on the other side of the room. Even with little to no lighting she could see Steve's face crumpled into one of distress. She lowered the side bar of the crib and lifted him into her arms. It had gradually become easier for her to pick him up, and now she could do it with no trouble at all. She sat back in the rocking chair and lay him across her lap. He looked up at her, teary eyed and confused. She hushed him and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's alright, sweetheart. You just had a bad dream." She crooned. She rubbed his back in circles as she felt him bury his face in her chest and cry into it. He was shaking hard, and she could only assume that he had been dreaming about the ice. This would have made four nightmares in two days on the subject. She continued to rock him and hush him until his shaking had died down a little. He finally lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she was struck by the fear in his eyes. She cuddled him closer to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked quietly. He shook his head no and took the pacifier from his mouth.

"Mommy," He whimpered, and she held him tighter.

"What, sweetheart? What is it?"

"Cold." He said, trying to burrow further into her.

"Do you want to put on some warmer pajamas?" She asked, and he nodded. The current ones he had on were navy blue with stars, but she knew they were thin and not very warm. She stood up and placed him on her hip as she opened the dresser drawer. A light-blue footed sleeper was at the top, and she found it perfect.

"Is this okay?" She asked, looking to him for an answer. He nodded. She went over to the changing table set up in the back of the room and began undressing him. She checked his diaper and found it to be soaked. She quickly went about changing it, knowing that that was part of the problem. Once she finished that, she put the footed sleeper on him one leg at a time. He was still sniffling when she went to put his arms in the sleeves. Looking at him with concern, she zipped him up, popped his pacifier back into his mouth, and handed him the two items she knew he couldn't be without for long: His blue blanket and Bucky, his small stuffed eagle. He took them both greedily and rubbed the blanket against his cheek while pressing the eagle to his chest. Natasha lifted him up.

"Better?" She asked, kissing his cheek. He nodded sheepishly, and she got the sensation that he wanted to say something but was too shy to ask. "Steve, what is it?" She asked, brushing the hair from his eyes. He hesitated a long moment before pulling the pacifier out.

"Ba ba." He said. Natasha inwardly smacked herself. Of course that was what he wanted. Warm milk would help him warm up and fall asleep.

"Let's go make you a ba ba then." She said, placing him on her left hip. She opened the door of his room, made her way down the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen. She flipped the light on and gingerly set him on the counter as she went about fixing his bottle. Once it was heating in the microwave, she focused on trying to make Steve smile again. He was looking at Bucky and his blanket. She took the opportunity to tickle his sides while he was occupied, earning a few giggles from him. She smiled when she saw the grin come back to his face.

"There's that smile I love so much." She said, tickling under his chin, earning another small laugh. The microwave beeped, and she went to get the bottle from inside of it. Screwing on the nipple, she tested it on her wrist to make sure it wasn't too hot before picking Steve up and taking him back to his room. She sat down on the rocking chair and hummed softly as he began to feed.

Steve drifted along into a place that was on the border between sleep and wakefulness as he suckled on the bottle. He could hear Mommy humming something soft and pretty into his ear and it made him relax further. He snuggled into her further and clung to her. Mommy would make the dreams stop. She always did. The ice couldn't get to him here. He was safe with Mommy. He was safe. He repeated the phrase over and over again as his sucking slowed and he drifted to sleep.

Natasha removed the nipple from his mouth, noting that he had drunk about half of the milk and had held him a few moments longer before placing him back into his crib. She raised the side bar and locked it into place, smiling a little when she saw Steve's thumb enter his mouth. She grabbed the pacifier from the rocking chair, gently removed his thumb from his mouth, and replaced it with his pacifier. When she was certain that he was alright and was asleep, she made her way to the rocker and went to fall asleep herself. She didn't go back to her own room because she knew it was a moot point. Steve had been waking up with nightmares for the past four nights in a row at least two to three times a night- sometimes more. She saved herself the trip and got in more sleep when she stayed in his room. The anniversary of his going into the ice was coming in less than a week, and she knew he was frightened. He was terrified of going back into the ice- more than he ever let on, she knew. And if it took her being there with him during odd hours of the night to ease his fears even a little, then she'd do it. Sighing, and with a feeling of warmth in her stomach, she lay her head back on the rocker and fell into sweet sleep.

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	2. Fever

**A/N: Two chapters in one day! No folks, you are not hallucinating. I hope you enjoy it!**

Natasha awoke and was pleasantly surprised to find that Steve had slept through the rest of the night. Early morning sunshine streamed through the window nearby her, and she smiled. She looked to see Steve still fast asleep in his crib, and looked at the wall clock. It was 9:30- Steve had slept two hours later than usual, and she knew he had to be exhausted. She decided to go and make him breakfast. She went into the kitchen to see Bruce making scrambled eggs in a frying pan.

"Morning." She greeted.

"Morning." He replied, smiling. The smile slipped a notch when he saw the exhaustion in Natasha's eyes and the bags that were under them. She noticed his stare.

"What?" She asked.

"Are you okay?" He asked. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Fine, why?"

"You look exhausted." Immediately, his mind went to Steve. "Is Steve okay?" He asked, concerned. She sighed as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"He's been waking up two or three times a night with nightmares." She said, turning to face him. She watched a dozen emotions fly through Bruce's eyes- concern, curiosity, and hurt were the most common.

"Why didn't you-"

"Because I knew I could handle it. You need all the rest you can get to keep the other guy out. I don't mind getting up in the middle of the night. I still get plenty of rest. The only reason I didn't tell you is because Steve hasn't told you himself. It's his job to tell you, not mine."

Bruce understood her logic, but couldn't help the stab of hurt that pierced his chest. Natasha went about making an omelette for herself, and then made breakfast for Steve. Strawberry and bananas with peaches. It made her cringe a little, but if he liked it, then she'd deal with it. Bruce and Natasha made small talk over breakfast, and when Natasha looked at the clock again, it was 10:30.

"I'm surprised he's not up yet." Bruce commented. Natasha nodded.

"I know. It's worrying me." Looking at the clock, then back at Bruce, she asked,

"Do you want to come with me to wake him up?"

Bruce nodded with a small smile. Natasha cleared the table, and went to get Steve with Bruce in tow. She opened the door quietly and saw that Steve was still asleep. She lowered the crib bar and took him over to the changing table to get him into a fresh diaper. He squirmed a bit before opening his eyes and looking around. When Natasha finished changing him, he reached out for Bruce, who picked him up just as easily as Natasha.

"Daddy," he said in a tired voice, "Sweepy." Bruce rubbed his back.

"I know, but it's time to wake up now."

"I no wanna wake up." He said, laying his head on Bruce's shoulder. His voice sounded pitiful, and both Bruce and Natasha looked at him sadly.

"I know you don't," Said Bruce, "But Mommy already made you breakfast. You don't want it to go to waste, do you?"

This wakes him up a bit. Growing up in the Great Depression, food had been scarce and hard to come by. He'd been taught to never waste it. He shook his head no and sighed tiredly as Bruce took him to the dining room. Bruce held onto him while Natasha put his breakfast on the table, and Bruce sat him down in the high chair. Natasha put a bib around his neck before beginning to feed him. The normally easy task was made difficult by the fact that Steve couldn't keep his eyes open. After finishing only half of his breakfast (and getting more on him than in him, they were sure) Natasha took him into the living room to play while Bruce went to work in his lab. Tony and Clint sat on the couch, attempting to explain football to a very confused Thor. They paused when they saw Steve. It wasn't unusual for him to be in his babyish attire, but to still be in pajamas and exhausted looking at this late hour was a red flag. Natasha sat him on a blanket, and his upper body swayed. Frowning, she went to his room and got Bucky and his blue blanket. Although she knew Steve couldn't get sick, for her own peace of mind she grabbed a thermometer from the bathroom. She handed him the eagle and blanket, which he took gratefully.

"Sweetheart," she said quietly, "Put this in your mouth. I want to take your temperature. Put it under your tongue." She instructed. He obeyed. She listened for the beep and took it out. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. 99.9- definitely a fever. She immediately picked him up and held him close.

"We're getting you back in bed right now." She said in a voice that was gentle, yet left no room for arguing. He laid his head on her shoulder.

"Mommy," he said, exhausted, "I go night-night?"

"Yes, baby. You can go night-night." She said, kicking herself for waking him in the first place.

"Kway." He said, shutting his eyes. She settled him in his crib, and he looked at her with half-closed, feverish eyes.

"Mommy stay?" He asked, quietly. She nodded, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll be right here when you wake up." She promised. Sighing, he fell asleep. When she felt him to be in deep sleep, she went to the other side of the room and called Bruce. She thought it a bit silly because they were in the same building, but she swore she wouldn't leave. She calmly explained the situation, and Bruce's immediate question surprised her.

"What were the nightmare's about?" He'd asked. She told him the ice and his response had surprised her.

"His mind has conjured up this feeling of intense cold so many times that his body may not have been able to tell the difference. That and lack of sleep could absolutely produce a low-grade fever."

He told her to treat it like any other cold and that he'd stop in when Steve woke up. Sighing, she shut her phone and put it in her pocket. It was certainly proving to be an interesting day. She retreated to the rocking chair where she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest for a long time.

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	3. Bond

**A/N: 3 chapters in one day! Who would have thunk it? Hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

Steve didn't wake until almost three o'clock. Natasha, at that point, was on edge. She had ruminated over the fever so many times that she was beginning to question her own sanity. When she saw his eyes open, she was overwhelmed with relief. She lowered the crib bar, and squatted next to Steve.

"How do you feel, sweetheart?" She asked, running her hand through his hair. He pulled the pacifier from his mouth.

"Ucky." He said. Fever spots made his skin look pale and sickly, and it made her stomach knot up.

"What feels yucky, honey?"

"Head. Tummy. All of me."

Natasha looked at him pitifully. "You need to eat something, sweetheart. You didn't eat much of your breakfast this morning."

Steve shook his head. "No eat."

Natasha sighed, relenting. "Will you drink your ba ba then? I want you to have something in your tummy."

He looked at her pleading expression, and couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Otay." Natasha blinked in surprise, but smiled.

"That's my boy." She said, kissing his head. "Do you want to see Daddy while I make your ba ba?"

Steve nodded. He just wanted the bad feelings to go away. She called Bruce, still stroking Steve's hair, and informed him that the boy was awake. Bruce replied that he'd be right there, and she hung up.

"Daddy's coming, baby." She said, cuddling him.

"Mommy," he whimpered, "Wet."

Natasha immediately swept him into her arms and went to change him. She really should have been checking his diaper while he was asleep, but she'd been consumed with worry over the fever. She finished changing him just as Bruce walked in.

"There's my favorite patient." He said with a smile. Steve tried to smile, but the pounding in his head was making it difficult. Natasha handed him to Bruce and went to fix Steve a bottle. She went in the cabinet and found powder to mix into the milk that would give Steve the supplements he was lacking. Meanwhile, Bruce sat with Steve on his lap and spoke quietly to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ucky."

"Mommy said your head and tummy were hurting. Is there anywhere else that hurts?"

Steve shook his head. Everywhere hurt, but those two places were the worst. He looked up at Bruce with big eyes, and for a moment Bruce thought the pools of blue night swallow him whole.

"Daddy make it better?" He asked. There was so much innocence and hope in his eyes that for a split second Bruce thought Steve really was a two year old child.

"Daddy's going to try." He said, pulling Steve close to him. For once Bruce wasn't worried about the other guy. He was completely focused on Steve and trying to get him better. He knew at this point Hulk wouldn't be out anytime soon, and if for some reason he did, he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn't go after Steve or hurt him. Bruce had, in his own way, drawn his line in the sand about that. Hulk could accept it to an extent- he liked Steve, but wasn't all too sure about Bruce drawing the line. That was what was making him simmer.

Steve curled up closer to Bruce, listening to the comforting words. He hadn't felt so bad since before the serum, and it terrified him. It was uncertainty- and he hated that with a burning passion. He liked stability- he liked routine. That's why being a baby was so important to him- it was something stable and concrete that couldn't be snatched from him at a moment's notice. His real Daddy had died while he was young, and Momma when he was a teen. Daddy was abusive and mean to him, so he'd never known a real father, but Momma had been his whole world. When she died, everything in his life had gone to chaos. That's why he was so thankful when he'd joined the army. It had given him a routine again. Now, he had an amazing Mommy, a loving Daddy, and three uncles who loved him, and it had given him stability again.

There was a knock on the door, and Uncle Tony, Uncle Clint, and Uncle Thor walked in. Normally, the sight of his uncles would have sent him squeaking with joy, but the best he could manage was a smile and a small "Hi" before he buried his face in the crook of Bruce's neck. The three looked at him, worried. He usually wasn't so despondent and reserved. He was always enthusiastic and cheerful, and now he just looked miserable. Tony went over to him first.

"Hey, Steve-O. How are you feeling?" He asked, ruffling Steve's hair. Steve let out a pitiful moan and hugged Bruce a little tighter. He wanted to cry- he hadn't felt so miserable since his last asthma attack, and he didn't know how the fever had gotten past the serum. He was scared- not just by the fever, but by the nightmares that came every night. He felt like he was drowning in his own misery. A few tears slid down his cheeks, and the four boys converged together in a sort of square of protection around Steve. All of them had physical contact with him. Tony kept running his fingers though his hair. Thor knelt in front of them and held the top of Steve's upper arm. Clint was behind the chair with a steady hand on Steve's shoulder, and Bruce kept on holding him.

Natasha walked into the heartfelt scene, and was touched by the compassion in the room. She went over and knelt on the side of the chair opposite Thor.

"Steve? Sweetheart? Can you look at Mommy for a minute?" She asked in the sugar-coated voice she reserved only for him. Sniffling, Steve looked at her, and the look on his face ripped her heart to pieces. He looked so upset and lost. She held her arms out if he wanted to come into them, and he did, sobbing and wailing into her shoulder. They reformed the protective square, and were silent, all except for Natasha who kept humming and whispering words of comfort to him.

After a while, Steve had calmed so that what once were sobs had been reduced to watery sniffles. Natasha was quiet a moment before asking,

"Do you want your ba ba now?"

Steve nodded quietly, feeling somewhat better after his cry, and fed in silence. The others kept the fiercely protective circle. Although they didn't know all of what was going on, they knew Steve was hurting and that was enough. They were a family- a bunch of misfits, perhaps, but a family nonetheless, and when one of them hurt, they all hurt. Steve kept hold of all his family as he finished feeding and snuggled with them all. They were his stability, and he knew they were there to stay. Despite how horrible he felt physically, he smiled, because he had a family that loved him.

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	4. Frustration

**A/N: Well, here's another chapter all! I hope you like it!**

Steve sat on the floor, frustrated with himself. Mommy had gone to the pharmacy to get him medicine, and Daddy was on the phone with someone important from work. He sat on a blanket with Bucky and his blankie held tightly to his chest. His uncles were sitting around him, and Uncle Thor was telling him a story, but he couldn't hear because of the awful pounding in his ears. He wanted to listen, to have something nice to think about, but the cold was getting the better of him. A few months of never getting sick had made him soft. He looked up at Uncle Clint, who was sitting on the couch right behind him. Clint looked down into Steve's innocent blue eyes and felt sadness Stab him in the heart like a knife.

"I want Mommy." He said, quietly.

Clint didn't quite know what to say to that, so he just put a hand on Steve's shoulder. In pain and upset, Steve stuck his thumb into his mouth and began to suck as if his life depended on it. It was a way to forget his emotions and calm himself down. Unfortunately, today his usual methods of self-comfort were fruitless and he found himself frustrated even more. He was on his way toward a full-blown tantrum when Mommy came through the door.

The second Natasha laid eyes on Steve, she could see he was in pain, upset, and about to throw a fit. She dropped the thick

Plastic bottle of cold syrup on the floor and rushed over to him. She gathered him in her arms and began hushing him, rocking him to and fro as gently as she could manage. Steve wrapped his arms around her neck and cried into her catsuit. She covered his head with kisses and sat down.

"What is it, sweetheart? What's wrong?" She asked, smoothing his hair. He sobbed quietly and said,

"Ears hwurt, I ucky, an' you and Daddy gone." He cried. Natasha couldn't help the guilt that threatened to strangle her.

"How are your ears hurting, baby?" She asked, smoothing his hair.

"Dwums." He said. It took her a moment to understand what he meant, but when she did she looked at him pitifully.

"Do you feel yucky on the inside or the outside?" She asked.

"Both."

"Do you want to take a bath?" She asked. He nodded. The footed sleeper was comfortable at night, but it made him all hot and sweaty and yucky. He didn't like that. Mommy lifted him up and went to his room to get him an outfit for the day. She got him a white shirt and overalls, and hoped that it wouldn't be too hot for him. She carried him and the outfit into the bathroom. She started the water and stripped him of his pajamas, leaving him in only his diaper, which she wouldn't remove until the last minute. She went into the cabinet beneath the sink and retrieved his bath supplies, pouring in a bit of bubble bath, and left for a moment to get a clean diaper, washcloth, and towels. When she returned, the water was right where she wanted it to be. She turned the water off quickly and turned to Steve, who was sucking his thumb with distressed eyes. She picked him up and took off his diaper, leaving him completely exposed before he got in the tub and sat down. The water was warm, but not hot. He felt a little better when he saw the suds in front of him, and felt a little cleaner. Natasha sat beside him on the tile floor, and grabbed a small blue-green tub from the shower caddy. She scooped water into it, instructed Steve to shut his eyes and lean his head back, and poured the water over his hair. As she squirted shampoo into her hands and worked it into a lather in his hair, she smiled when she saw him smile a bit. She rinsed his hair and put conditioner in while he gathered up suds in his arms and blew on it, sending tiny bubbles into the air. He giggled, and the familiar sound made her smile. She wet the washcloth before pouring a bit of body wash onto it, and rubbing it on Steve's back in soothing circles. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling sleepy, and leaned toward her. Her smile widened as she finished washing him, and rinsed out his hair one more time before brushing it with the hairbrush in the caddy.

Feeling a bit less yucky, Steve smiled at Natasha, who began to drain the tub and helped him to his feet, before wrapping him up in a towel. She laid him down and put on a fresh diaper before putting on the white shirt and overalls. She lifted him onto her hip.

"Better now?" She asked.

He nodded, thumb unconsciously slipping into his mouth as he cuddled into her.

"Let's get some medicine in you- we'll get that nasty fever out of you in no time."

Steve winced. He'd taken medications as a child- far more than he could have counted, and the idea made him nauseous. Natasha went into the living room to see the bottle of cold syrup she'd dropped in the doorway now sitting on the glass coffee table. She sat him on the plush leather couch, and poured the thick red liquid into the tiny cup. She knelt beside him, and was fully prepared for world war three to take place in the living room.

"Sweetheart, you need to take this medicine. Daddy said it will bring your fever down."

Steve shook his head avidly. "No! No ucky stuff." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Steve," she said in a warning tone, "You need to take it. We can do it now, or we can do it after time out. Take your choice."

"No!" Came the vehement reply.

"Alright, if you don't want to choose, I'll choose for you." She said picking him up and sitting him in the corner. She got down to his level, and said,

"You're in time out for two minutes." And set the clock. He tried multiple times to get out, but each time he did, she put him right back in the spot and reset the timer until he stayed. When the timer finally went off, she went over to him and knelt down to make eye contact with him.

"Do you know why you were in time out?" She asked.

"I bad." He said looking down.

"How were you bad?" She asked, hoping to get a more specific answer.

"I no take ucky stuff." He said.

"That's right." She said, softly.

"I sowwy, Mommy." He said, looking at his feet.

"I forgive you, sweetheart. Now give Mommy a hug."

He did, and she held him close before grabbing the tiny cup from the table.

"Are you ready to take your medicine now?" She asked, holding it out to him.

He nodded, suddenly exhausted. He took the tiny cup and swallowed the medication that tasted like some god-awful version of cherries. A shiver went down his spine when he finished, and he handed her the cup, tired out of his mind. Seeing this, Natasha carried him to his crib and laid him down. He smiled gratefully at her, before sighing contentedly and shutting his eyes.

"I wuv you, Mwommy." Came the slurred sentence as sleep claimed him. Natasha planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Sweet dreams." She said, and walked out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her.

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	5. Nap

**A/N: Hope you all had a good weekend! Here's another chapter!**

Steve awoke several times during the night, and each time Natasha was there to soothe him and get him back to sleep. She'd taken his temperature, and found it to be at 98.9- much better than earlier. She fell into an exhausted sleep every time Steve awoke. The day of the anniversary of Steve's plummet into the ice was in two days and the nightmares were increasing. He woke up wet, crying, and scared out of his wits. No amount of soothing words could calm his rising panic. He woke up more exhausted and worried than the day before. Although the fever had gone down, he felt worse than ever. He was nauseous to the point of needing to be near a toilet at all times, he woke in a state of hazy reality, and he couldn't stop shivering. Natasha was there every time to change him, wipe his tears, and soothe him to the best of his ability.

When he awoke, the first thing he did was roll onto his side and look for Natasha. He found her in her usual spot, curled up in the rocking chair. He knew she was tired, so he tried to go back to sleep. When he rolled onto his back to do so, however, he felt his diaper squish beneath him. It was cold and clammy and he hated it. He tried going back to sleep, but all he could think about was the awful feeling of the cold diaper and how it reminded him of the ice. He didn't notice when he'd started to whimper in discomfort, but Natasha did. Getting up wearily, she shuffled over to the crib and lifted him up into her arms. The whimpers had grown into small cries by that point and he buried his face in her shoulder. Assuming he was wet, Natasha took him over to the changing table and made quick work of getting the diaper off of him. Once it was off, the cries had nearly ceased. She finished diapering him and settled into the rocking chair, rubbing his back gently. The motion should have felt soothing, but instead it made him feel sick, and without warning, he got up from her lap, went to the bathroom, and threw up. She rushed after him, and held him up the entire time. She didn't know how there was still food in his stomach after how little he'd eaten yesterday, but apparently there was. When he was certain it had stopped, he curled into Mommy and cried. She held him the entire time, and carefully picked him up. He didn't seem to notice as she carried him to the couch. She stroked his hair and whispered words of comfort to him, and he calmed slightly.

"Do you feel any better?" She asked in her sugary voice. He examined himself a minute before saying,

"Widdle."

She kissed his head and he closed his eyes, wishing it would all go away. Bruce entered the room and knew Steve had gotten sick. His pale complexion looked almost translucent and he could see sweat on the soldier's forehead. He sat next to Natasha, who gave him a look that indicated that he was correct. He put a hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve turned and looked at Bruce with glazed eyes. Bruce ran a hand through the boy's hair, and he slowly blinked.

"How do you feel, son?" He asked, quietly.

"Sweepy." He said, eyes slowly blinking shut.

"Do you want to take a nap with Mommy?" Natasha asked. Steve nodded.

"Do you want breakfast before or after your nap?"

"Nappy fiwst." He said, slipping his thumb into his mouth. His eyes slid closed, and Natasha took him back to his nursery, settling into the rocking chair.

"Do you need any help?" Bruce asked quietly from the doorway. She shook her head.

"I'll be alright."

"I'll take him for a while later. Get some rest." He said before exiting. Smiling, she shut her eyes and fell asleep with Steve's head on her chest.

When Natasha awoke a few hours later, it took her a moment to gain her bearings.

When she realized she was in Steve's room, she looked down to see him still asleep. She checked her watch to see that it was noon. Steve still had plenty of time to sleep. Feeling out of whack from abnormal sleeping patterns, she sat there for a while, just watching Steve sleep. It was something she could do for hours. He looked so much younger in his sleep- it astonished her. It was so easy to forget that he was still the youngest (and yet oldest) member of the team. She got to see his innocent side when he was her baby, and sometimes it was a side she took for granted. It was moments like this that made her appreciate what she had, and she brushed a stray hair from his forehead, and kissed it with all the tenderness she could muster. She didn't know if she believed in a God, but she was thankful to whatever deity would listen that she got the opportunity to be a Mommy to her sweet baby boy. She studied his face carefully. His eyes were shut in a peaceful way, and he was gently sucking his thumb. He showed no sign of distress unlike the previous night, and it made her perk up a bit. She rubbed his back and thought she saw him smile. She rocked the chair slowly back and forth for a long time until she finally felt him wake.

Steve opened his eyes and blearily registered that he wasn't in his crib. He was about to whine in fright when he realized someone was holding him. He looked up and saw Mommy smiling at him. He smiled back, and snuggled into her. She stroked his hair lovingly.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" She asked, kissing his head. Steve did a physical inventory before saying,

"Bwetter." She smiled and kissed his forehead again.

"Good." As an afterthought, she added, "Do you want anything to eat?" He considered the question carefully before nodding. She lifted him up and carried him to the kitchen where she fed him some bananas, only to be interrupted mid-meal by Bruce, who was grinning madly. Steve smiled and reached for his father, who picked him up easily.

"Hey bud, how are you feeling?" He asked. Steve smiled.

"Good."

"That's good. Do you want to come to work with me for a little bit? I think Mommy needs a break." Steve nodded excitedly, and turned to hug Natasha.

"Bye bye, Mommy." He said, smiling.

"Bye, sweetheart. Be a good boy for Daddy." She said. He nodded and they went to the Lab. Natasha, starving and still exhausted, made herself lunch before going into the bathroom to run herself a relaxing bath. She eased into the warm water, tilting her head back, and relaxed for the first time in a week. Finally, her mind had quieted, and she had peace.

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	6. Premonition

Steve sat on the floor, blanket under him with toy soldiers scattered around it. Bruce was looking into a microscope, trying to study the effects of gamma rays on a new microorganism. He felt peaceful, relaxed. Steve was always fairly quiet, and it eased any tension he had. Steve sat on the blanket, legs spread into a V-shape as he imagined the soldiers going to battle. Having lived the scenario, he had no trouble visualizing it, and watched the soldiers breathe their last as they said a final prayer to God. Steve, who usually didn't speak much in the lab, (Or anywhere else for that matter,) piped up when he remembered something important he wanted to ask his father.

"Daddy?" He asked in his clear but high-pitched voice.

"Yes?" Bruce said, still looking into the microscope and jotting down a note.

"Do you believe in Jesus?"

Bruce lifted his head, surprised and mildly confused by the question. He was a lapsed catholic. He wasn't overly religious, but he still attended mass on occasion. He questioned some of the logistics, which is what drove him to not go to church as often, if at all. In some of the poorer countries he visited, churches were nonexistent. The people simply gathered together under the sun for worship- no order of mass or building needed. Seeing their spirituality had reawakened his belief in a higher power, but he still had his qualms with the practice. Religion, however, had been on the back burner of his mind for a long time. What had prompted the question was what he was more concerned with. He turned to face Steve.

"Yes," he said slowly, "why do you ask?"

Steve squirmed in his seat a bit, uncomfortable. He had a horrible dread in his stomach that something bad was going to happen on the anniversary of his plunge into the ocean. He didn't know when it had come exactly, but he supposed he was trying to come to grips with it. Using his regular voice, he said,

"If something happens to me, I want to know you're going to be watched over and safe."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He went over and knelt beside Steve, placing a gentle hand on his right shoulder.

"Hey now, what makes you think something's going to happen to you?" He asked, concern and confusion mingling in his eyes.

"'S a Feeling." He said. He couldn't explain the foreknowledge that he possessed, but he just knew something bad was going to happen. Perhaps it was a gift from Jesus himself- he didn't know. He stared up at Bruce with eyes full of the horrid truth.

Bruce was struck with the seriousness of what Steve was talking about. The look in his eyes had an appearance of all-knowing, but when he looked closer, he saw the panic brewing under Steve's mask. Proper words left him as he looked at Steve's face. The mixture of innocence, knowledge, and panic made his stomach writhe inside him. It was so wrong- the boy had been through so much already, he didn't need this. The fact that he was so serious about it was what made Bruce so uneasy. The way he said it... He said it the same way as if he were saying he had bananas for breakfast. It was so matter-of-fact that it was sickening. He felt bile rise in the back of his throat, and tasted copper pennies in his mouth. After the moment of shock passed, he put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Do you think that me, Mommy, or any of your uncles would let that happen?" He asked gently.

Steve paused. He knew they would try and protect him to the best of their ability, but at the same time, the knowledge was solid. He swayed between both ideas for what seemed like an eternity, toying and wrestling with both, before he finally said,

"No."

Bruce exhaled a little at that. Steve still had faith in them. He supposed it was a silly thought- Steve had more trust in all of them than they all probably had in themselves. He absently rubbed Steve's back in a soothing, circular motion.

"Then don't worry about it. We won't let anything happen to you. We'll give everything to protect you. We'll keep you safe. I promise, son, we will keep you safe." Bruce said, hugging the child. The fierce determination was evident in his voice, and Steve wanted so badly to believe him. He could not reply, for the premonition was upon him. He was going to fall. He didn't know how, but he knew it would happen. Captain America would be bested and defeated, but not forever. Something told him he wasn't going to die- not yet. He hugged Bruce back and slipped his thumb into his mouth, starting to suck quietly.

"No more worrying over this, alright?" Bruce said, running a hand through Steve's hair.

"Yes, Daddy." He said, trying to mold his features into a pleasant expression. Bruce smiled and went back to his microscope, but he could no longer concentrate on the microorganism beneath it. He would definitely be talking with Natasha and the team about this after Steve went to bed. For now, however, he decided worry didn't mix well with his line of work, so he pushed the thought aside and tried to continue his study. Despite his efforts, he often found his eyes drifting to look at the boy behind him sitting on the blanket.

Steve looked at the little green army men scattered across his blanket, and watched one fall. It was a sign, he thought. He would topple just as easily as one of the toys he played with. Sucking his thumb a bit harder, he looked at the bucket of fallen soldiers, and wondered if he would soon join them.


	7. Judgement Day

**A/N: I own nothing. Lyrics included are "Godspeed" from the Dixie Chicks.**

"He said WHAT?!" Natasha screeched.

The Avengers, minus Steve, had gathered at the dining room table when Bruce had called for a meeting. Now, sitting together, Bruce had told them all what Steve had told. Natasha was looking at him with a face paler than a sheet, and he thought she might throw up. Clint put a hand on her arm. Bruce nodded in silent reply.

"This will not come to pass!" Declared Thor.

"Damn right. Nobody's taking him out while we're around." Clint agreed.

"Please, they wouldn't get a fraction of an inch past Natasha." Tony said.

Bruce looked at Natasha, who had yet to say another word after her little outburst. She was pale and shaking slightly. Her mind had whirred at what Steve had said, and it had given a good shock to her system. It knocked the air out of her and left her breathless as she groped for some emotion to what she was feeling. She found it to be an odd combination of anguish and protective ferocity. She felt distressed that he was worrying about the ice in the first place, and now this? Was fate never finished hurting her child? She wouldn't let anyone touch him or lay a hand on his precious head.

She would die protecting him if that's what it took.

Finally, she noticed Bruce and the others staring at her, and she said, in a quiet, grave tone:

"No one will touch him."

And that was the final word on the subject.

The next day passed in a flurry of activity that no one could really comprehend. All of them were separated for some reason- all except Natasha and Steve, who were back at Stark Tower. With the erratic sleep schedules between them both, the others agreed they needed a day off. The two slept in and finally got back on track with their sleep. Natasha stayed close to Steve the entire day, and was in full Mommy-mode. She made sure he ate before he said he was hungry, changed him before he ever said he needed it, and cuddled him more than he would have asked. Steve was slightly surprised by how in tune she seemed to be with him, but dismissed it as her finally having her energy back. Her maternal instincts had sharpened to the point that they were nearly psychic. Natasha spent the time just before Steve went to bed feeding him his bottle and telling him how much she loved him. That night, she sang to him quietly and with purpose as she held him in her arms and rocked him to sleep.

"Dragon tales and the "water is wide"

Pirate's sail and lost boys fly

Fish bite moonbeams every night

And I love you

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings

Godspeed

Sweet dreams

The rocket racer's all tuckered out

Superman's in pajamas on the couch

Goodnight moon, will find the mouse

And I love you

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings

Godspeed

Sweet dreams

God bless mommy and match box cars

God bless dad and thanks for the stars

God hears "Amen," wherever we are

And I love you

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings

Godspeed

Godspeed

Godspeed

Sweet dreams..."

She kissed his forehead as he drifted into sleep.

The night became arduous for them both as Steve awoke every hour with nightmares. Natasha kept her spirits up and was there to comfort him every time. The morning came with reddened sunrise all too soon, and they were both awake and alert by then. Steve knew something was going to happen- there was no doubt left in his mind about it. Until the something happened, Steve made sure he enjoyed every second for what it was worth. He hugged Natasha and Bruce every chance he got. All of the Avengers hovered over Steve protectively, and it was made into a sort of family bonding time.

At around two o'clock that afternoon, they got a call about someone trying to destroy the city. Natasha and Steve quickly suited up and went off to see what the trouble was.

At the center of Times Square was a large robot on four legs firing multi-colored lasers at the citizens of New York City. Tony figured it would be an easy fix- have JARVIS hack into it and shut it down. When he went to do so, however, JARVIS' protocols were overwritten and he was shut down instead.

_Mirror effect_ thought Tony.

Hulk emerged and climbed up the robot, smashing in the top part of the circular body, to see a man inside. Clearly a scientist from his white coat, which was all that was visible at the moment. Tony joined him at the top and was about to grab him when a blue laser shot from the robot and hit Steve squarely in the chest. When it cleared, even Hulk stopped and stared.

Captain America was back in the ice.

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	8. Parents

Steve knew he was going to sacrifice himself. It was simple, easy. He couldn't let the robot hurt his team. He would be the decoy, and he would take the fall. The laser hit, and suddenly the ice was there, starting from the center of his chest and working it's way around his body. He felt it's sharp claws dig into his arms and pierce the skin. He felt panic and black terror rise in his chest, and he had to fight the urge to scream. The darkness of the ice was calling to him, beckoning to him in a way that could not be ignored. His consciousness was slipping, and the last thought he had was coated with childhood innocence.

_I want Mommy and Daddy._

Natasha watched the entire scene play out before her in slow motion. Steve had been evacuating citizens when the laser had hit. She watched the ice start from his chest and coat his body, adding layers as it formed a block of ice. For a moment she gawked at it, shocked and numbed, before she was filled with unparalleled rage. She hurtled toward the machine and climbed up the droid. Her vision was tinged red and her normally beautiful face was twisted into something grotesque and ugly. Tony saw it and cringed. Natasha leapt inside to deal with the man in the lab coat.

Hulk had seen Steve get hit, which meant Bruce had too. Bruce felt shock, which is why Hulk stared, and was suddenly hit with full blown rage, which added fuel to Hulk's fire as he continued to rip the machine apart.

None of them had seen what Natasha did to the man in the lab coat, and they didn't want to- but the robot stopped firing. It was Tony who picked up Steve's frozen form and carried it to SHIELD to be thawed. Once he saw them working on unfreezing Steve, he flew back to the rest of the team, letting his mask up when he landed. When Natasha saw him she walked right over to him and slapped him smartly across the face.

"What was that for?" He asked, rubbing his cheek.

"For taking Steve without telling me. I would have made it worse, but you did get him to SHIELD for me."

"I didn't know I needed your permission to save his life."

Natasha completely froze at that. A mark of hurt flashed through her eyes that he didn't quite understand, but knew he had caused. It made him feel... Guilty. He hated that word.

The comment had stirred up old insecurities for Natasha, and suddenly she felt like she might break.

_Mothers are supposed to protect their children._

She had failed to protect Steve. She had broken her promise, and it stung her heart like a scorpion. The guilt became a literal weight on her shoulders, and she thought she would crumple to the floor with their heaviness. She wanted to cry- never so badly had she wanted to cry, but she had to stay strong for Steve.

When Bruce had returned from his time as the Hulk and had changed, He and Natasha raced to SHIELD to see Steve. When they arrived, the doctor said he was nearly completely thawed, and that he would wake up in a few hours. Natasha had been so overwhelmed with relief that she'd had to sit down.

Overseeing all of this was Director of SHIELD Nick Fury. He knew the secret harbored by the team, and knew why the usually self-possessed Black Widow seemed to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Steve Rogers had become her baby- and she had what could only be described as a Mother's response to the event. He saw that and understood it. He wasn't, however, sure of what Steve Rogers' response would be to this relaying of a traumatic event.

Steve was drifting in the place where consciousness and unconsciousness divided. He was walking the line like a tightrope, and sometimes swayed to one side or the other. Weak memories flashed by him:

"I gotta put her in the water."

The ice- he was locked inside the ice again. Someone would find him, wouldn't they? Mommy and Daddy would find him. They loved him, they would find him. The crash replayed over and over in his mind until he shot up from his bed with a muffled shriek.

The first thing he registered was that he wasn't in his crib. His eyes darted around nervously, looking for something- anything that was familiar, but he found nothing. Scared beyond his wits, he curled onto his side, freezing although he was under several blankets, and stuck his thumb in his mouth and began to cry quietly. When a nurse saw this, she paged the Director and told him that Captain Rogers was awake. Nick Fury ordered all the nurses to stay out until he had a chance to see Steve for himself. He walked down the corridor leading to the Super Soldier's room, and could hear quiet sobbing through the door. Knocking on the door before asking to come in, Nick Fury entered the room and shut the door behind him.

Natasha wasn't one to worry over things out of her control, but Steve was always the exception to the rule. She spent hours worrying over him, and had been overwhelmed with relief when she saw the Director walking toward them. They knew he had seen Steve.

"How is he?" Natasha asked nervously.

The Director paused, and she thought she'd have a coronary right then and there.

"Physically he's fine, but I'm not sure where he is mentally. A psychologist is in there with him now."

"When can we see him?" She demanded.

"As soon as the psychologist is finished. He's been asking for you both."

A pang of odd relief struck her. He still wanted her and wanted to see her. Impatiently, she paced around the floor, agitated and irritable. Finally, The Director reappeared with who she assumed to be the psychologist.

"How is he?" She asked. The woman was slender with straight black hair put half up. A light purple dress and black pumps added to her femininity.

"I think you two had better sit down."

Natasha sucked in a breath. Oh dear lord that phrase was never good to hear.

"The Director explained your arrangement to me, and I treated him as I would any other child. He's fine, except..."

"Except what?" Natasha asked, groping at straws.

"He's developed False Memory Syndrome."

Desperately, Natasha asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means that when I asked him who his parents were, It wasn't Sarah and Joseph Rogers who were being described to me- it was you."

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	9. Decision

**A/N: hope you all are still enjoying the story! I really want some feedback on how you're liking it and what you think will happen next! Let me know and review below!**

Natasha felt her breath freeze in her throat, and heard her heart pound in her ears. Time seemed to stop and the room dissolved around her as the doctor's words sunk in. The shock knocked the air out of her lungs and she struggled to breathe. Her eyes glazed over, and she felt as if she was watching the exchange from outside of her body. When her sense returned to her, all she could do was stammer:

"U-Us?"

The Doctor nodded.

Bruce looked at the doctor with more understanding. Of course he was shocked, but he could see the logic behind it- of course Steve would see Natasha and Himself as his parents. He'd lost both parents far too young, had been in an orphanage, and woke up seventy years in the future after he was supposed to have died. Natasha and himself had become a fixed thing in Steve's ever-changing world. They were the constant that parents were supposed to be.

In a way, he felt flattered.

"What do we do?" Bruce asked.

The doctor looked at both of them, before saying, "How you handle things from here is up to you. If you want him to recover the memories he lost, then I'll help you. But... There's always the other option." She said before walking away.

The shock finally abated from Natasha and she looked at Bruce.

"What are we going to do?"

Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying: "I don't know."

Before they could discuss the matter any further, however, Natasha's well-honed maternal instincts went into overdrive and she shot up from her chair like a rocket.

"Something's not right." She said, and bolted toward Steve's room. She pushed the wooden door open to see a nurse trying to forcibly insert an IV into his arm. She didn't hesitate to hit a pressure point on the woman's neck, knocking her unconscious. Her hand slid from it's tightened place on Steve's wrist. Steve himself had turned his face away, crying and clearly distressed. He could still remember horrible things happening after the doctors put that in. He'd learned to hate it with a fiery passion, and yet fear it all at the same time. The tears leaking from his eyes and the sobs wracking his body were all full of fear, and he just wanted it all to stop.

Natasha rushed over to him, crouching down beside his bed, she aligned her eyes with Steve's closed ones.

"Sweetheart?" She said, quietly.

Steve opened his eyes to see Mommy there. Of course she was there- she always was. Now, shaking violently, all he wanted was her. He reached out to her, trembling and pale, as he said,

"Mommy." The word sounded so broken that she thought her heart was being ripped apart inside of her. He looked like a frightened animal- terrified and vulnerable. It killed her inside. She swept him into her arms and pressed him to her chest, kissing his head and running a hand through his hair.

"Oh, baby, Mommy's here. Mommy's not going anywhere. The Ice is gone, and you're safe here. Everything's going to be okay, sweetheart." She said, rocking him.

Steve continued to cry, not out of fear anymore, but out of relief. Mommy was here and the ice couldn't touch him anymore. He was safe in her arms- finally safe.

Bruce entered not five seconds later, and looked at the scene before him with pity. Walking over to the bed where Natasha was holding Steve, he sat next to her and put a hand on his son's shoulder. Steve knew it had to be Daddy because he knew Mommy wouldn't let anyone else touch him. Natasha tore her eyes from Steve for a moment and looked at Bruce. A silent communication passed between them, and they nodded in unison. They couldn't break his heart and tell him his memories were wrong. He had become theirs, and they were his. They turned back to Steve, whose sobs had turned to watery sniffles.

"Mommy," He whimpered, sniffling, "Dirty."

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up." She said, and laid him down on the bed. She changed him quickly and cleaned him up, never breaking physical contact with him. Bruce stood to the side and held onto Steve's hand. Steve, who was still not quite done crying, just sniffed sadly. When he was clean, Natasha picked him up and sat him in her lap.

"Is that better?" She asked in her high voice. It made him smile.

"Yeah." He said quietly, putting his thumb in his mouth. Natasha reached into the diaper bag and pulled out his pacifier.

"Do you want to keep sucking your thumb or do you want your paci?" She asked. She usually didn't give him the option after seeing him suck his thumb raw, but she would make the exception today.

"Pwaci." He said around his thumb. She handed him the pacifier and he slipped it in as he started to suck. She saw his shoulders relax and felt her lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. She dug out his blanket and Bucky from the bag and offered them to him. He took them and squeezed them tight to his chest. A few stray tears leaked onto the blanket, but what once were sobs had become hiccups. Natasha sat by him and kept stroking Steve's hair while Bruce entertained him with Bucky. Soon, the tears were replaced by smiles, and the hiccups by giggles.

Not long after, Clint, Tony, and Thor arrived. Steve hugged them all, smiling, and asked Natasha for something to it. While she fed him, Bruce pulled the three men outside and relayed the psychologists news to them.

"We have some news about Steve." He said, calmly.

"What?" Asked Clint.

"He's developed a memory disorder." The three froze and their eyes turned from relaxed to serious.

"What is it?" Asked Tony.

"He's developed False Memory Syndrome. He thinks Natasha and I are his real parents."

If Tony had been drinking water, he would have spit it right in Bruce's face. They all stared at him, shocked and stupefied. Bruce waited patiently for the shock to pass.

"Does this mean he thinks we're his real uncles?" Asked Clint.

"I don't know- It's possible. You'll have to ask the psychologist when she comes back." Bruce replied. Clint shrugged. Tony spoke next, laughing out the statement.

"So... Let me get this straight: Steve-O there thinks he's on this planet because you and Natasha reproduced?" By the end he was bursting out in loud guffaws. Bruce rolled his eyes and ignored him, becoming serious again.

"We decided he couldn't know the truth." Said Bruce, quietly. That shut Tony right up.

"That is dishonest to him and yourselves." Thor commented. The others were quiet.

"I know." Bruce sighed. "But the look on his face was so..." Bruce struggled for the right words "Broken. We couldn't just tell him that his real parents died over eighty years ago. He doesn't need to deal with that right now. He needs stability, and to him we're all that he has to hold onto. We'll take it on if we have to, but he doesn't need to lose his parents- not twice."

At the end of the speech, they all nodded in understanding.

"We will stand with you." Said Thor, stepping forward. "You will not carry this burden alone."

"We're here." Said Clint.

"We wouldn't want the rugrat going anywhere without us." Said Tony, and Bruce cracked what seemed to be a hint of a smile. Banded together, they stepped through the door and went in to see Steve.

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	10. Divine Intervention

Natasha fed Steve his last bite of peaches when the boys walked in. She smiled slightly at them before wiping Steve's face off with a rag. He smiled at her and she grinned back, kissing his forehead and cleaning up the remnants of his meal. Bruce was over to him first. He ruffled Steve's hair, making him smile.

"How are you, son?" He asked. Steve paused.

"Otay." He said, then looked at Natasha.

"Mommy?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"Ba ba?"

"Of course, sweetheart." She said, and started making his bottle. Steve turned to look at Bruce, who was still smiling at him.

"Does anything hurt?" He asked. Steve surveyed himself, then shook his head.

"Uh-Uh."

"Good."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Steve?"

"Did you trust Jesus?" Steve's eyes were solemn, and Bruce knew he was more serious than he let on.

"With what?" He asked.

"With me." The room was silent. Natasha had stopped making the bottle.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" She asked, trying to understand what he was saying.

"I was with Jesus in the ice." He said, matter-of-factly. The room was deathly quiet, and no one was sure how to break it. Finally, Bruce did.

"You were... With Jesus?" He asked. Steve nodded.

"Uh huh. He let me sit in his lap. I went out of my body. I got to watch Uncle Tony take me here, and saw you and Mommy in the waiting room. You were cleaning your glasses off, and Mommy kept pacing." Natasha and Bruce looked at each other in shock. There was no way he could have known that- he was in another part of the medical wing at the time.

"What else happened?" Asked Clint.

"I met angels. They sang to me. It was real pretty."

"Did Jesus tell you anything?" Bruce asked, intrigued.

"Uh-huh. He said I didn't need to be scared anymore, cause I was gonna get out of the ice."

Again, Bruce and Natasha exchanged looks.

"Honey," Natasha began, "Did he tell you anything about us?"

"He said that he was watching over you both cause he knew you were real worried about me. He said his Daddy was holding you both." For a moment, Bruce and Natasha stared, dumbfounded at him.

"Did you meet anybody?" Asked Tony, breaking the silence. Steve's eyes went from happy to somber and he nodded.

"Who did you meet?" Asked Clint.

"I saw Bucky." He said, solemnly. Natasha immediately started running her fingers through his hair. "And Peggy, too." Natasha was almost certain he was going to cry, but he didn't. All of them were silent, and were about to change the subject when Steve spoke again. "There was a lady there... With blonde hair and pretty blue eyes... She ran a hand through my hair like Mommy does." Bruce swore he could feel Natasha's heart leap into her throat when she reached the same conclusion he had: Steve had seen his Mother, and didn't even recognize her. "She didn't say anything to me, but she smiled. I think she was my guardian angel." He said. He then suddenly turned to Bruce and looked at him with intensity. Bruce knew it was a signal that he wanted to be alone with him.

"Natasha," Bruce began, "How about you and the others go take a break? I'll finish up here." Natasha, though somewhat surprised, nodded, and he could see her struggling to keep it together. When they all left, Bruce turned back to Steve, who crawled into his lap after he sat down.

"Daddy," Steve began, "What was your Mommy's name?"

Bruce was surprised by the question, but had a funny feeling of what was about to happen.

"Her name was Rebecca." Said Bruce, quietly. Steve nodded, before launching into a full length description of Bruce's mother, and hadn't missed a detail.

"That's right." He affirmed.

"I got to meet her." He said, almost shyly. A dozen emotions flew past Bruce at once, but he couldn't latch onto one. In a monotone, he asked,

"How?"

Steve looked at him, somber, and said, "I was praying for you and Mommy when a lady came up to me. She said, "Do you know Bruce Banner?" I Said, "Yes. He's my Daddy." And she smiled, and said, "I'm his Mother."

Bruce felt his heartbeat quicken. His mind scrambled to process the new information given to him, and groped at straws for words. His son (for lack of a better definition) had just told him that he met his deceased mother. What on earth was he supposed to say to that? Steve pressed on, saving him the struggle.

"She told me how smart you were and that she was real proud of you and said that she was so excited to be a grandmother. She told me to tell you that she's watching over you, and that she loves you a lot. She's really nice."

Bruce felt his throat thicken at the words and wordlessly pulled Steve in for a hug and pressed the boy to his chest. Steve happily returned it, cuddling up in his father's lap.

"Thank you." He choked out. Steve nodded into Bruce's chest. After a lengthy silence, Steve pulled away.

"Daddy, can I have my ba ba now?" He asked. Bruce nodded.

"Of course you can." He said, quietly, and went to fixing it.

When Natasha, Clint, Tony, and Thor returned, they sensed an immediate change in Steve and Bruce's relationship. They seemed closer than they were before. Bruce had finished making the bottle and had started to feed him without even thinking about it. He could hear the others coming in, but he didn't care. He wasn't even worried about the other guy at this point, because he was happy. Truly and genuinely happy for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity. He looked down at Steve, whose sucking had slowed and had become almost nonexistent. He was looking at Bruce under heavy eyelids. Bruce removed the bottle from his mouth and placed it on the nightstand. Steve clung to his Father's lab coat, feeling safe and secure. His eyes fluttered closed, and just before setting his thumb in his mouth, he murmured, "I wuv you, Daddy."

Bruce felt a smile cross his face, and whispered, "I love you too, son."

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	11. Choice

**Koryandrs: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

Natasha sat staring at the wall. It was tan, plain, and textured. She wanted to move, get up, but the shock had hit her, and all she could do was stare. Her son- her baby, for that matter, had told her he'd met Jesus. What on earth was she supposed to say to that? She herself wasn't particularly religious, and considered herself an agnostic. She didn't object to the idea of a God, (and with Thor walking around, she knew they existed) she just didn't practice religion. But the way Steve was talking had rocked her to her core. The sincerity of what he said was so great that she couldn't ignore it. She kept staring at the wall.

Then there was the issue of his Mother.

Hearing him not recognize his birth mother twisted something deep inside. The woman he had once called "Momma" was now forgotten, and it just didn't set right with her. She knew she wanted to be Steve's mother- she had to be at this point, but could she live with the burden that she chose not to tell him about a mother who had once been his entire world? Could she, as a mother, lie to him? The thought made her heart lurch. She wondered what Sarah Rogers thought of her. Would she be saddened by her son's need for such treatment? Would she feel as though he wasn't being "raised" properly? A dozen questions like these flitted through her mind in an instant, and she closed her eyes to try and block them out. She had heard a bit of Bruce's conversation with Thor, Tony, and Clint, and the bit she'd heard really stuck with her:

"...He doesn't need to lose his parents- not twice."

Now the words rang clear and true as they circled through her mind, and she realized Bruce was right. No matter what had come before, she and Bruce had become Steve's parents. They loved him and he loved them, and there was nothing wrong with that. In a strange way this false memory had been a blessing to him- because he had two less people to hurt over. If God existed and really did have a plan for Steve, this would prove an interesting plot twist. She finally moved her eyes from the tan wall and looked around. There were only two chairs outside of Steve's room, and the other was occupied by Clint, who, she noticed, would occasionally glance at her worriedly. Thor and Tony stood by him. Tony looked fine, but the smaller hallway made Thor seem like a giant. She knew at some point they'd all been staring at her. When she had gotten out of the room, she'd been white as a sheet and her eyes had glimmered with unshed, guilt-ridden tears. That's why staring at the wall had been crucial- she had to have a fixed point to focus on to try and get her emotions under control. She'd never admit that a tear had welled up in her right eye and she'd let it slide down her cheek where the others couldn't see.

Motherhood had really jacked up her emotions.

Part of her job as an assassin was to control her emotions- be a wall of steel. Her emotions were in a dam- walled up and safely contained. But with Steve she couldn't have that luxury. The wall of steel was melted. the dam broke and let her emotions out. In a strange way, she found it to be a blessing. Whenever someone hurt Steve (or tried to), it made her every sense go on high alert. Everything was sharpened to it's finest point, and she felt adrenaline course through her every time. She saw red every time, and felt the anger and adrenaline increase her strength so much that she thought she could lift a car if she had a mind to. She knew that the emotion behind what she was fighting for made her stronger.

Because in her eyes, it was her job to be his protection from this world.

Every single thing he'd seen in his life- the bullying, the poor health, the death of his mother, the crash, the ice, and waking up seventy years in the future had left invisible scars. Not everyone saw them- most weren't that privileged to, but she saw them the easiest. Each event had been an emotional, mental, or physical wound. They had all led him to this. This need for safety and security in a world that he didn't understand and kept changing by the minute. She had the honor of being that constant, and she saw it as her job to protect him. She knew, mentally, that he could take care of himself, but her heart spoke differently. Because she had to be the Mother that had been taken from him too soon, and Bruce had to be the father he'd never known.

He needed them in a way that she didn't think he himself could explain.

Sighing, Natasha turned to the door, hand on her hip. She wanted to go and see Bruce and Steve, but there was an invisible signal that flashed through Bruce's eyes when he told her to go take a break that stopped her. Steve had wanted Bruce alone, she knew that much. Struggling within herself, she finally decided to go in, and shot Clint a look that got him and the others behind her. When she got inside, she saw Steve cradled in Bruce's lap, sucking on a bottle, and it made her heart melt in her chest. She knew it was a sign- she was doing the right thing. She heard Steve murmur something to Bruce, and saw Bruce look down at him with more compassion and care than she had ever seen. Steve, she thought, had an effect on all of them that she doubted he was aware of. He made everything so much brighter. He had worked his way into all of their hearts, and had brought out sides of all of them that they hadn't known were there. It was as if he was gifted with lighting up all of their lives. Now, watching Bruce hold a sleeping Steve, she knew that she had made the right decision when she chose to be his mother and brought them all in on Steve's secret. It made them all stronger, she realized, and gave them something to fight for. Walking over to Steve, she planted a kiss on his head and shared a look with Bruce.

Yes, she knew she had made the right choice.

**Please Review!**


	12. Cling

**A/N: Kind of a filler chapter, but it DOES have a purpose, I promise! Enjoy!**

Steve woke from his nap to find himself swaddled in warm blankets. Wriggling onto his side (not without a bit of trouble), he looked around the room. The walls were bare and white. A harder chair covered in blue-green fabric sat against one wall. There was a small table in the corner of the room with a vase of flowers on it, and there was a nightstand to the right of his bed.

What was most poignant, however, was that he was alone.

Turning back onto his back, he felt himself starting to wet, and accordingly started to whimper. He hated being alone- at least when he was in this state. He settled his thumb in his mouth and waited. Mommy or Daddy always came when he cried. But a minute ticked by, then another, and another, and no one had come for him. The whimpers had expanded into cries as the diaper grew cold and itchy, and he was starting to worry. Maybe Mommy or Daddy didn't always come, but somebody always did. He sat up, thumb in his mouth and Bucky clutched tightly to him as he looked around in fright.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Mommy was rushing over to him.

"Oh sweetheart," she said sadly as she picked him up, "What's got my baby so upset?"

Steve buried his face into her shoulder as he continued to sob. Natasha rubbed his back and cooed to him until he calmed enough to speak.

"Wet," he blubbered, "And awone." Natasha held him close and kissed his head.

"Mommy's sorry, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up."

She changed him with tenderness and affection, stopping every so often to kiss his head or tickle his stomach. He basked in the warm glow of her affection, and when she finished changing him, he cuddled up to her, needing that reassuring presence she gave. She stroked his hair and nuzzled him. She didn't want him to know what she'd been up to- not yet at least.

When she'd adopted Steve, she had been the sole adopter. She was now working with SHIELD and the state to get Bruce's name on the papers. It was a long and tedious process that required mountains of time and paperwork, but she knew it would be worth it in the end. Clint, Thor, and Tony had gone back to Stark Tower for the night. Now, Natasha sat with Steve in her arms, thinking the day's events over. She looked at her watch- it was 9:30 at night. She really needed to get her sleeping patterns back on track. Considering Steve had just taken a nap, she didn't think she'd be sleeping anytime soon. The child in question was looking up at her. He saw the tiredness and exhaustion in her eyes, and knew she was tired. He reached up to tug on her sleeve. Natasha looked at him with a gentle smile.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Mommy go night-night?" He asked, looking at her with large, shining, eyes. Natasha was about to say no, but then considered that he was asking her.

"Mommy's tired, honey." She said, quietly. He put his hand on the pillow and tapped it twice.

"Sweep?"

She felt temptation make the hair at the back of her neck stand on end. Part of her wanted to say no in case he needed her, and also because this was technically his room, but the other part- the exhaustion that was taking over her body, protested with a vehement yes. After a bit of internal struggle, she finally relented to her need to sleep. Sighing, she kissed his head.

"Alright, sweetheart. Mommy will go to sleep. But if you need me, wake me up, alright? Especially if you need a change. I don't want you to get a rash, alright?"

He nodded, smiling. She laid down, and he curled up next to her, content with just having someone else in the room. He watched the rise and fall of her chest with happiness, and cuddled a bit closer to her. She was warm and safe- he loved that. Popping his thumb in his mouth, he stared up at her peaceful face. It was good to see her relax. She did so much for him, sometimes he forgot that she could get exhausted just as easily as he could. He latched onto her top, clinging to her like a cat. He felt her arm drape across his shoulders and smiled. Even unconsciously she still had him in mind. He shut his eyes with a quiet, contented sigh, and let his imagination run wild. There were pirates, knights, dragons, and lost boys running in circles around his mind, and he watched them from inside his eyelids. Scenes repeated over and over again, but he didn't care. After a certain point, the dream took on a life of it's own as conscious thought was lost. Shapes and colors danced before him in random collections, and he smiled unconsciously, happy.

Steve fell asleep, clinging to his Mother's chest, with her arms wrapped protectively around him.

**Please Review!**


	13. Papers

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, all! I had a very busy weekend! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Bruce gave an exasperated sigh as he pushed a stack of papers away from him. Pushing up his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Paperwork was never fun- scientist or not. He laid his forehead on the cool metal of the desk. It felt good against his hot skin. A thin sheen of sweat had covered his face, making his forehead stick to the cold surface. He slowly lifted his head and looked at the pile of forms in front of him. Blurred images of black lines were snippets in front of his tired eyes. He looked down at the pen in his hand. It was dark blue with gold lining, and heavy. He felt his hand cramp up at the thought of writing again, but ignored it in hopes of filling out just one or two more pages. The state symbol of New York glared at him from the top left corner of the paper, and the emboldened words "Adoption Forms" were scrawled across the top of the page. Bruce tapped his pen against the desk, enjoying the soft tinging noise it made. Resting his cheek on his hand, he began filling out the forms. He had only made it a quarter of the way through the stack at that point. He had to try and get the forms filled out before tomorrow arrived. The day after the state office closed for a few days, and he just couldn't bring himself to wait that long. He wanted to legally be the father of his son. He knew it didn't matter in the long run- his son would love him and see him as his father no matter what, which was great, but he wanted it to be legal. He wanted to have those papers that said Steve was his child, and no one could take him away from him.

He would be the father to his son that his father had never been to him.

Steve Rogers was ill-equipped to change.

When he had first become Captain America and had been performing in front of hundreds of people, He didn't understand the fame. Who was he? A dancing monkey for the corporate big-wigs. It wasn't what he'd wanted to do with his life, but at the moment it was the only way he could serve his country without being a lab rat. When he'd been told Bucky was kidnapped, he knew he had to act. Colonel Phillips words "you are not enough" had become his motivator. He would prove them all wrong, and would save his best friend. When he saved not only Bucky, but 400 others, he was suddenly taken seriously and made out to be a hero. But he wasn't a hero- he was just Steve Rogers, a skinny kid from Brooklyn who was too stubborn to give up. Bucky saw that, and that's what made it easier. He'd held firm in his moral beliefs and relied on instinct when all else failed, and had started taking down HYDRA factories one by one. When he'd gone into the ice, Captain America had died a national hero. Waking up seventy years in the future, now even more famed than before, was something he wasn't prepared for and didn't think he could handle. He took it one day at a time, and was slowly coming to terms with this future he was thrust into. It took an open mind on his part, and something concrete for him to hold onto. Now, he was beginning to open his eyes to new possibilities. He would make it. There was hope for him yet.

His subconscious, however, was much less able to deal with the change.

The nightmare was there, consuming him.

He stood on the stage doing his routine when he heard a metallic clang cut through the music. He felt something wet land on his head, and shut his eyes. He heard gasps from the audience and heard someone scream. It was shrill and clear. The music came crashing to a halt, and he opened his eyes.

It was blood. But not just any blood- it was Bucky's. He saw the lifeless form of his best friend lying in front of him, and knew somehow that the blood was his. Bucky's blood was on his hands, and he was covered with it. He smelt the sick, rotting scent and wanted to cringe. Then, someone was laughing. The audience transformed from patriotic citizens to all the people he could remember bullying him. Amidst the laughter were the catcalls of "Freak!" and "Weirdo!" He scrambled off of the stage and bolted for the doors. Just before he got to the doors, someone tripped him and he was sent tumbling down the stairs that led to the lobby. When he regained his bearings, he realized Peggy was staring at him in disgust.

"Peggy, I-"

"You're too late, Steve. Seventy years too late." And then she was walking away, and he felt panic seize his chest. He chased her out the front doors to suddenly find himself in the middle of Times Square, in the middle of a future he didn't understand.

"Peggy! Bucky!" He screamed. Everyone just stared at him with judgemental eyes. No one would help him. He was all alone.

He woke with a start to see Natasha hovering over him protectively, hushing him and stroking his hair. With a start, he realized that he was crying.

"It's alright, sweetheart. You just had a bad dream. You're here with me. You're okay. You're alright. Shhhh."

He crawled into her open lap and clung to her, too scared to listen to her reason. The horror should have been monotonous, but it wasn't. The dream had repeated, come again, and every time it was terrifying. Because he knew what it meant. He hadn't been able to let go of his past. The demons were still hot on his tail even after having seventy years to outrun them. He cried. He cried for everything he lost, and that he couldn't get used to the future. He felt his dread ebb away a bit when he heard Mommy start to sing. He was quiet, trying to listen to her soft voice and gentle tone. It took constant reminders to tell him that he was alright and that he was safe. Clinging to Mommy, he fell into a fitful sleep.

Natasha sighed, fraught with exhaustion. Steve's nightmares were difficult for her to handle. She could see the fear in his eyes every time he woke up, and had to remind herself that he was living his worst nightmare every day. He was away from all he'd known, and it was still terrifying to him. She couldn't help but feel the guilt tear at her as she wondered what she could have done to prevent it. The knife was twisted, and she fought the urge to shift positions in discomfort. Suddenly, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Swearing to herself, she carefully shifted herself so that Steve wouldn't be awakened, and flipped open the little black device.

"Hello?" She whispered.

"Natasha?" It was Bruce.

"Steve's asleep in my lap. What is it?"

"The paperwork is done. I just need your signature on it so I can turn it in first thing tomorrow morning."

"Alright, I'll be up early. Just don't take too long at the office. You know Steve will get suspicious."

"I know. It'll be as short as I can make it."

"Okay."

"Get some sleep." Said Bruce. "See you in the morning."

"Alright. Goodnight. Talk to you tomorrow." She finished and flipped the phone shut. With the utmost care, she lifted Steve into her arms and laid him back down on the bed before tucking him in. With a gentle kiss, she wished him goodnight before laying on the floor to try and catch some fleeting sleep.

**Please Review!**


	14. Court

**IMPORTANT A/N: Hello dear readers! I just wanted to let you know that (unfortunately) I have my first college final due in two weeks. This may slow down updates for a while until all is said and done. So sorry! . Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Natasha awoke early the next morning and met Bruce outside of Steve's room to finish signing off on the paperwork. She sat in the chair just outside of the room with the clipboard in her lap as she started signing her name and initialing in designated areas.

"Rough night?" He asked, seeing her near translucent complexion.

"Considering I was awake at the time of night you called and ended up sleeping on the floor, you might say that." She said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Bruce winced. It had been well past midnight when he'd called. He couldn't recall when exactly it was that he called her, because by the time he did the night had blurred into a haze of paperwork.

"Sorry about that, by the way." He commented, hoping to sound sincere.

"It's not a big deal. Steve woke me up half an hour earlier."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Nightmare?" He asked. She nodded gravely.

"He was screaming." She said, biting her lip in distaste at the memory. Steve's face had been twisted and working as he shrieked and cried, a line of drool connecting his pajamas to his mouth. Whatever the dream had been (and she couldn't bring herself to ask for she knew he wouldn't want to talk about it), It had clearly shaken him. She finished signing the last paper and handed the clipboard to him.

"Finished. Just make sure you get back in time for breakfast. He worries." Natasha said, quietly. Bruce nodded.

"I'll be back quick as I can. If something comes up, tell him I got called into the lab." Natasha nodded.

"See you then." Bruce gave her a nod before rushing to his car.

The drive to the DA's office was, to Bruce, long and tedious. It was only ten minutes away, but it felt like a thousand miles. When he reached the office, he smiled politely at the receptionist, before taking a seat to be seen.

If he thought the car ride was lengthy, he was dead wrong.

The hour and a half wait was going to be his untimely end. The excited yet nervous tension had built up in such a way that he was hyper aware of his surroundings. When he was called up, he shot up out of the chair like a rocket. He and the man behind the glass whose name was "Bill" exchanged smiles before he got down to business.

"I'd like to file for adoption." He said.

"Alright. Let's see your papers." Bruce pushed the stack toward him. Bill looked through the stack of papers for a long time. When he looked up, he was smiling slightly.

"Everything seems to be in order here. I'll call you with notification of your court date."

"Thank you very much." Said Bruce, before going out of the office. He would be discussing the "court date" with Fury- perhaps it could be avoided altogether. With a Cheshire grin on his face, he headed back to SHIELD to have breakfast with his son.

Steve had awoken early that morning with a small yawn and a few involuntary coos. He was warm and comfortable. The coos almost turned to whimpers when he thought he was alone, but he could hear Mommy talking to someone outside the door. He squirmed a little beneath the sheets and was happy to know she was right outside if he needed her. He found his pacifier on the nightstand by his bed, and popped it into his mouth, sucking lightly. Natasha entered the room and smiled when she saw him awake. Steve cooed happily and reached up for her.

"There's my handsome baby boy!" She said in the voice she only reserved for him and lifted him high into the air. Steve erupted into peals of laughter and she pulled him in close to her, cradling him in her arms and planting a kiss on his cheek. "How's my sweet boy today?" She crooned. He giggled and wrapped his arms around her neck.

"Gwood." He said, nuzzling her.

"Well good!" She said, making herself cheery to the point of ridiculousness. "Do you need a change?" She asked, kissing his cheek again. Blushing, he nodded. "Let's get you changed." She sang. After finishing the unsavory task rather quickly, she lifted him onto her hip and bounced him a bit.

"All done!" She said, smiling. "Are you hungry yet?" Steve mulled it over before nodding. "Okay, baby boy. Do you want your ba ba first or do you want your fruit?"

Steve took the pacifier out and said,

"Ba ba."

"Okay. Let's get you a ba ba then." She said, setting him gently on the floor. "Oh!" She said with a smile, "look who came to say good morning!" She said, pulling Bucky out from behind her back. Steve squealed in delight and clutched the eagle to his chest. Natasha smiled as Steve began playing with his beloved friend and set to making his bottle. Within five minutes it was ready, and she settled him into her lap for his morning feeding. She felt him relax as she held the bottle to his lips and held him close, enjoying the bonding the ritual always brought. Steve felt himself getting lost in thought as he suckled on the rubber nipple. His mind was going in a hundred directions at once, but it was somehow relaxing. Peace crept into him as he slowly let all the tension drain from him. Before he knew it, the bottle was gone, but the sense of peace remained. Natasha held him close to her for a few minutes, letting him wake up a bit before picking him up and settling him on her hip.

"Are you ready to eat?" She asked, kissing his head. He nodded, grinning. "Let's get you some food, then. What do you want to eat today, darling?" She asked, sweetly.

"Stwawbewies?" He asked. She smiled.

"Of course, honey." She said, and sat him near her while she made his breakfast. He looked around, smiling, but for a moment the smile faltered as a thought crossed his mind.

"Mommy?" He asked.

"Yes, baby?" She replied, glancing over her shoulder.

"Where's Daddy and Uncle Clint, Uncle Tony, and Uncle Thor?" He questioned.

"Daddy got called into work, sweetheart. He said he'd be back as soon as he could. And I'm sure your uncles will be here soon."

Steve frowned, accepting the answer unhappily. Natasha was quick to try and distract him with his breakfast. As soon as she sat him down to feed him, Bruce swept in. After a brief conversation with Fury over the court procedures, Bruce had rushed down to see Steve. It was his constant reminder that he had something to fight for.

"Daddy! Dada!" Steve squealed, reaching for Bruce, who picked him up in a tight hug.

"How are you doing, Bud?" Bruce asked, shifting Steve onto his hip. Steve shamelessly cuddled into him.

"Otay." He said, burying his face in Bruce's neck. Bruce grinned. He loved how much Steve trusted him, and the fact that he could still trust that deeply.

"Looks like Mommy already made you breakfast. Let's get you some food, huh?"

Bruce said, Bouncing him a bit. Steve nodded, suddenly tired. Natasha fed him while Bruce rubbed his back in soothing circles and praised him for being so clean with his breakfast this morning. Natasha lightly wiped his face off with a wet rag before Bruce lifted him up. She looked like she'd been through hell- Being that positive and cheery to distract Steve from his "father's" absence was a lot of hard work. It really took a toll on her energy. She started cleaning Steve's plate, silently praying that Bruce would occupy him long enough that she could get a nap in. She looked over to see Steve in Bruce's lap, Bucky clutched tight to his chest.

"Daddy?" Steve asked, quiet and shy.

"Yes?"

"How come you got called into work today?"

Bruce froze up only a moment before responding, "I just had to turn in a few papers that couldn't wait."

"Otay."

Bruce's cell phone went off, and he excused himself to the corner of the room.

"Hello?" Bruce greeted.

"Doctor Banner, you have an appointment with the judge in an hour. Don't be late." Nick Fury said in his clipped tone before hanging up.

Bruce couldn't make himself stop smiling.

**Please Review!**


	15. Call

**A/N: I AM SO SO SO SO SOOO SORRY, GUYS! That final literally took over my life for the past week, but I am glad to say there should be no more major hold ups like this until late December. I have missed you all so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you all for being such faithful readers!**

Bruce turned from his corner of the room to see Steve looking at him curiously. He went over to where he was sitting and stroked his hair.

"Daddy has to go for a little while, okay, bud?" Steve frowned and let out a sniffle.

"Why?" He asked, eyes downcast. Bruce ran his fingers through Steve's hair.

"I got called into work. I shouldn't be gone too long." Steve clutched Bruce's shirt with all his might.

"No go bye-bye, Daddy." He whimpered.

"Daddy has to go, buddy. But you'll have lots of fun with Mommy while I'm gone." Said Bruce, gently prying Steve's fingers from his clothing.

"That's right." Natasha interceded. "In fact, I bet your Uncles will be here any minute to see you. We can play with them and Daddy will be back before you know it, alright, sweetheart?" Steve sniffled, but nodded, and Bruce kissed the top of his head.

"Be good for Mommy." He said, before heading out the door. He drove to Stark tower to change into a suit before making his way to the court house. When he arrived he searched frantically for a clock and was relieved to know he was half an hour early. He walked up to the front desk and was sent to room 498. There, he sat for a painstaking half hour, before the mahogany doors opened and he went inside.

Steve, meanwhile, sat on the floor and whimpered. He hated it when people left. They always seemed to leave when he wanted them to stay- it felt like life kept trying to rip his happiness away. He was frustrated with himself for being so needy, but he couldn't help it. After being on his own and feeling alone for so long, he needed to know that someone cared. Natasha went over to him and picked him up, stroking his hair gently. A part of her felt guilty for Bruce being gone, but she shoved it aside as Steve wept into her neck. She rubbed his back in small circles and hushed him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" She asked

Quietly as she kissed his cheek.

"I want Daddy." He sobbed. Her arms automatically tightened around him.

"Oh, darling, I know you do. He'll be back soon, honey." She said, lightly bouncing him. He let out a particularly sharp wail as she continued to try and calm him, but it was to no avail. He sobbed continuously into her shoulder, done pretending that he was alright. This future terrified him more than he let on, and one of the only people who didn't give up on him wasn't there when he needed him. Natasha sat on the bed with him, between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to call Bruce, to see if hearing his voice would calm Steve down, but she also knew he might be in the court room. Steve's monotonous weeping went on and on, weakening her with every fresh cry. Giving up, she reached for her phone and went to call Bruce.

The phone let out a shrill whine from his pocket, and he cursed himself for not turning the damn thing off. He knew he was forgetting something when he got to the court room, but was too busy worrying about Steve to try and find out what it was. The judge turned to look at him.

"I apologize, your honor. I thought I had turned off my phone." He went to do so when he saw it was Natasha. He looked up at the judge.

"Your honor, his adoptive Mother is calling me. In the interest of the child, may I answer?" The judge stared at him for a moment, looking at him as if he were crazy before finally speaking.

"As long as you put it on speaker. All evidence must be recorded." Bruce nodded gratefully before flipping the phone open and pushing the speaker button.

"Hello?" He said, wincing as a shriek pierced the background.

"Bruce? I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but Steve won't stop crying for you. Do you have a second to talk to him?" She asked, desperately. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

"Sure. Put him on." He said.

"Steve," he heard Natasha coo, "Daddy wants to talk to you." He heard the phone change hands, and a broken sob filled the phone.

"Daddy?" Came the shaking word. Bruce felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

"Hey bud," he said, trying to sound nonchalant when his face gave away that his heart was breaking, "how are you doing?"

"When are you coming back?" Came the sobbed response. Bruce felt the knife of guilt twist it's way a little deeper into his stomach.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, sport. Until then, can you be a good boy for Mommy?" He asked, feeling hollow.

"I no want Mommy, I want you!" He wept.

"Steve," he said in a warning tone, "I know you want me right now, but you need to be nice to Mommy when I'm not there. I want you to be good for Mommy while I'm gone, alright?" He said in a calm but firm voice.

"Yes, Daddy." Came the small reply.

"Daddy has to go now, bud."

"Otay. "I wuv you, Daddy." Bruce smiled.

"I love you too, son. I'll see you when I get back."

"Otay. Bye-bye." Came the response.

"Bye." Said Bruce, before hanging up the phone and slipping it into his pocket. He looked at the judge's face, which was set into a stony look that he couldn't decipher. Bruce was about to speak when the judge beat him to it.

"Doctor Banner," he began, and Bruce stood. "Never in my thirty years as a judge have I seen such affection in a situation like yours. You bear no relation to the child, and are only friends with his mother, yet you treat him as if he were your own. It is very clear that he sees you as his father and respects you as such. I have never been more uncertain in a case of custody than I have in this, but the child has made my decision very clear." Bruce sucked in a breath as his world seemed to stop.

"Doctor Banner, by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I hereby grant you joint custody of Steven Rogers." The gavel pounded twice, and the smile refused to come off of Bruce's face.

He did it. He was legally the father of his son.

**Please Review!**


	16. Under Wraps

**Koryandrs: Thanks for reviewing! Sorry about the meandering, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it! I hope you like it!**

After his conversation with Bruce, Steve had calmed immensely. The once inconsolable sobbing had reduced to whimpers and the occasional hiccup. Natasha had set him on the floor again, going to find a few toys for him. She glanced over at him much more often than she needed to, but she supposed it was her worrying too much.

"Mommy." He sniffled, and she rushed over to him.

"What, baby?"

"I want hold me." He said, sniffing again. Her heart plummeted into her chest as she picked him up.

"Sweetheart, I'll always hold you." She said and stroked his hair. He laid his cheek on her shoulder and quelled the last few sniffs from his body. He still shook slightly, but was silent for the most part. Natasha snuggled him close and hummed quietly. He closed his eyes and tried to find inner peace. She sat on the bed and nuzzled him, quietly concerned.

"I sowwy." He said into her chest.

"I forgive you, sweetheart." She said, kissing his head. She held him for a while, not saying anything, before the door opened. Steve's head shot up as he watched. He was disappointed to find his uncle's there instead. He wasn't sad to see them, but he had hoped Daddy would be back. He attempted to smile at them, but it came out quivering. Tony, Clint, and Thor looked at him sadly, but tried to smile. Steve would have broken into tears again were it not for Bruce busting through the door.

"Daddy!" He squealed, and held his arms up to be picked up. Bruce happily obliged and swept him up. Steve cuddled up to him and slipped his thumb into his mouth, content at last.

"Hey, bud. How are you?" He asked gently. Steve snuggled further into him in response.

"I mwiss shu, Daddy." He said behind his thumb.

"I missed you too, buddy." Steve let out a yawn, and Bruce smiled at him. "Sounds like it's nap time for you."

"No." He said, shaking his head adamantly. "No nappy."

"How about we just lay down then? How does that sound?" Steve frowned, but didn't object. Bruce soon told him stories of mythical lands and before long, Steve had fallen asleep. A knock at the door made Natasha leap up from her chair and rugs to get it. When she opened up the door, she put a hand over the man's mouth before shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Agent Romanov-" He began, but Natasha shushed him.

"Keep your voice down." She said in an urgent whisper, "Captain Rogers is asleep."

"We need you to come in." He said. This immediately gained her attention.

"Why?" She asked.

"We have a reliable report that a Russian terrorist cell is in the area, and we need a mole on the inside. Since none of our other agents speak Russian, you were the only option." She paused to consider this.

"How long will this take?" She asked.

"No more than a few hours. A woman named Regina Kozlov was supposed to be attending, but she's detained by homeland security at the moment."

She hesitantly nodded. "Alright. Just give me a few minutes here."

"Of course, ma'am. We'll be on level six when you're ready." He said, before leaving her. Natasha paused outside the door, not quite ready to go in, but sighed as she opened the door and began to gather her things.

"Where are you going?" Bruce whispered from beside Steve.

"On assignment. It shouldn't be more than a few hours, but it's undercover. I won't be able to check in."

Bruce carefully maneuvered himself out from beside Steve, and went over to her.

"What do you want me to say when he wakes up?"

"Tell him I'll be back in a few hours. The bottles are in the fridge, and the changing supplies are in the bottom drawer. I'll be back as soon as I can." Bruce nodded, and she headed off. For an hour she was poked and prodded by expert makeup artists who molded her into the girl she was pretending to be. When she looked in the mirror, the blonde haired, blue eyed, plucked to perfection face staring back at her was that of Regina Kozlov. Dressing in expensive furs with a steel briefcase in hand, she made her way to the address SHIELD had given her. Heeled boots clicking on the concrete, she made her way down an alley where an abandoned building was located. When she went inside, all was dark, but the second floor was lit. A small fire exit staircase was the only way up, and when she took the first step, her boots clanged against the metal, and she heard guns being cocked.

"Who goes there?" A man cried in Russian. In a slightly higher pitched voice than normal, she replied,

"Regina." The guns were set down against metal railing.

"Enter." He said. She climbed the stairs to the loft. Although it was concrete, the floor was coated in thick layers of dirt. _Easier to clean_, she thought as she set eyes upon the men. Several muscled and heavily armed men lined the rails, and a mahogany table was at the center. Leaning on it was a light blonde-haired man with one cobalt blue eye, and the other clearly a steel one. He wore a blue pinstriped dress shirt and black pants with Italian loafers. She knew he had to be extremely well off to afford them.

"So," he said in heavily accented English, "you are miss Regina?"

"Yes." She said with a nod. She was acutely aware that the guards were watching her every move, and was ready to grab her weapon at a moment's notice.

"Do you have the funds?" He asked.

"That depends. Do you have the information?"

He held up a slip of paper.

"You must be very well off to buy your way into this." He commented. Natasha said nothing, and simply gave him a knowing look.

"Let's get down to business." She said, stiffly.

"Ah, but why rush, pet? How do we know you can be trusted?" He said slowly.

"You don't." She replied.

"And that is what worries me." He said and snapped his fingers. The guns were cocked and aimed at her.

"Please, sit down my dear. Take off your coat." She obliged, hyper aware of the gun she hid in her brassiere under her long sleeved dress. She toyed with the pearl necklace around her neck.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"It's not about what I want- it's what's best for the country." He said, a glazed look in his good eye.

"And what is that?" She asked.

The man regained the hard look in his eye. "You think you are worthy to know?"

She kept a blank face, subtly reaching for her gun.

"American exceptionalism at it's finest." He sneered. Before she could get to her gun, two shots were fired into her shoulder. She pushed a homing button on her earring, alerting the SHIELD agents that littered the grounds, before the darkness claimed her.

**Please Review!**


	17. Wishful

**A/N: Koryandrs: Thank you so much! I always look forward to reading your reviews! The ending was sad, but it will get better! Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

She drifted just below the surface of consciousness for a long time. She thought of herself being the pointed end of a pencil and the consciousness as a thin layer of rubber. She could push a long time without ever making a hole, but when she did break it, she knew she would be in excruciating pain. She made the choice to stay there, hearing voices that were muffled and distant. Once in a while she could pick out the owner, but most of the time it was all a running together of senseless sounds. It didn't bother her though, because it was better than the pain she knew was just above her reach.

Meanwhile, Steve woke up from his nap and blinked with tired eyes. He looked around to see Bruce looking at him with a smile from the end of his bed, and he attempted to return it. Bruce went over to see his son and gently stroked his hair.

"Hey sport, how are you?" He asked softly, painfully aware of Natasha's absence.

"Otay." He said, rubbing his eyes. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Wet."

"Let's get you cleaned up, then." He said, and went to get the changing supplies. True to her word, Natasha had hidden them in the bottom drawer of the dresser. He pulled them out and began the process of changing his son while Steve looked around blearily. His mind was logy from sleep, but he sensed that something wasn't quite right. He wanted to figure out what it was, but his sleep-addled mind was too bogged to come up with an answer. The thought made him frown slightly as Bruce picked him up.

"Better?" He asked. Steve nodded, still tired. Bruce saw the exhaustion etched into Steve's features and inwardly frowned. "Do you want to finish your nap?" He asked, gently. Thumb set firmly in his mouth, he shook his head no. The idea was tempting, but he knew trying to figure out what was missing would keep him awake anyways.

"How about some playtime, then?" Bruce offered, setting him on his spot on the floor and slipping Steve's beloved pacifier into his mouth. He nodded and absently reached for Bucky when he realized the small eagle wasn't nearby him. A flash of panic almost reduced him to tears before he remembered that Mommy probably had him. Suddenly, it clicked. That's what was missing- Mommy was missing. He removed the pacifier from his mouth.

"Da da?" He asked. Bruce, who had started getting a few papers out to work on, looked over at him.

"Yes?"

"Where Mommy?" Bruce felt his heart go through a trap door and fall rapidly into his stomach as he knelt down to his son's eye level.

"Mommy had to go to work, buddy. She'll be back soon." He said, his guilt intensifying as he saw the soul-crushing sadness in Steve's eyes. Steve felt the sadness crash like a weight onto his shoulders. He didn't cry, but his lip trembled and his eyes glistened with forcefully held back tears. Bruce rubbed the boy's back before pulling him into an uncharacteristic hug. "She'll be back soon." He repeated, and prayed it to be true. Just then, Bruce's cell phone rang. He fished it from his lab coat pocket and saw the caller was none other than Nick Fury. Swearing inaudibly under his breath he moved to a corner of the room, still vigilantly watching Steve, who was looking at him curiously.

"Hello?" He said after flipping the phone open.

"Doctor Banner, Agent Romanov is currently on her way to our ICU. Her cover was blown and she's been shot twice in the shoulder. I thought you should know." He ended with a foretelling tone. He knew Bruce had to be the one to break it to Steve, and he could only pray that the soldier could keep his rationality in check.

Upon hearing the words, Bruce sucked in a breath and muttered a slur of swear words under his breath, still maintaining his carefully constructed mask in front of Steve, who was looking at him with his head cocked to one side.

"Alright, thank you. Keep me in the loop." He replied, trying to keep the conversation as vague as possible. He didn't want Steve to know about this until he had more information. There was no need to get him upset without reason.

"Will do." Replied the Director before hanging up.

Bruce flipped his phone shut and smiled at Steve, whose eyes were boring into him.

"It's alright," he said, keeping his voice tranquil. "Just a problem at work."

Steve eyed him suspiciously, but didn't say anything. He looked down, saddened at his empty hands.

"Bucky." He said, frowning.

Bruce went over to the far corner of the room where a tiny pile of toys was starting to grow. He scrounged through it until he finally found the small eagle in the middle of the stack. He brought it to Steve, who took it smiling, and cuddled it close. Plastering a smile on his face, Bruce attempted to bury himself in paperwork to distract from worrying over Natasha. About half an hour later, his phone rang again.

"Room 221." Said Nick Fury before hanging up.

With a deep sigh, Bruce went over to Steve, who had Bucky beside him as he built a tower of blocks. Steve looked up at him with wide baby blue eyes, and Bruce felt guilt stab at his chest.

"Steve, I want you to listen to me very carefully, alright?" Hearing the seriousness in his Father's voice made him instantly uneasy, and he frowned, but nodded.

"Mommy's in the hospital right now. She's going to be okay, but she's hurt. She's here in the building, and when the doctor says it's okay, I'll take you to see her, alright?" He said the speech slowly, hoping not to scare him too deeply.

Steve's mind whirred as he tried to process this new information. It didn't seem possible- his Mommy was too strong for that. He felt tears well up in his eyes and run down his cheeks. It wasn't that he thought she wouldn't be okay- he knew she would be, it was that he couldn't do anything to help. He hated not being able to take action when it was called for, and more than anything, he hated waiting. He hated the restless waiting that seemed to consume his life. He just wanted concrete answers- was that too much to ask? He didn't think so.

Bruce, seeing the tears flowing down his cheeks, picked him up and set him in his lap. Steve sniffled and buried his face into his father's coat as Bruce whispered words of reassurance into his ear. As he stared at the depressed form of his child, he could only pray that the words "she'll be alright" would be true, and not just a figment of his wishful imagination.

**Please Review!**


	18. IMPORTANT MUST READ AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Hey all. I wanted to apologize to all of my readers. I have been in and out of the hospital for the past month, and haven't had any time to write. I am recovering well, so hopefully there will be a new chapter for you all soon. Thanks for being amazing readers! I love you guys!**

**Sincerely,**

**Holly**


	19. Touched

Bruce walked beside Steve to the hospital room where Natasha was. Before doing anything else he instructed one of the techs that he wanted all cameras off during the visit. When the male technician began to protest, Nick Fury appeared behind them and shot a look that silenced the technician and sent him skittering off.

"Go ahead." Said Fury. "The cameras are off under my orders."

"Thank you, director." Said Bruce. With a brusque nod, Nick Fury headed back to central command.

Bruce looked to Steve, who was wearing his standard mask of emotionless. Bruce knew from his tense posture that the emotional wall he'd built to keep people from knowing his secret would tumble down when he saw Natasha. He put a hand to his son's shoulder.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

Steve just nodded, not knowing if he would ever be ready. Bruce opened the door and went in before letting Steve through and shutting it promptly afterward. He could see Steve beginning to shake as he looked at the woman he called "Mommy".

Her arm that used to cradle him gently was covered in a cast, and held high into the air by what seemed to be invisible wires. The steady beeping of the heart monitor kept telling him she was alive. An IV was put in her other arm, and the pole holding the bag gleamed silver, and somehow became menacing. It scared him to see her looking so fragile.

Violent tremors coursed through his body as he stepped toward her, whimpering softly. Bruce kept a hand on Steve's shoulder, watching his face crumple as he started to sob the word that came out as a shriek.

"Mommy!"

Bruce was quick to catch him as he tried to fall to his knees. Bruce picked him up and bounced him as he cried and kept reaching for Natasha with one arm. He walked over to the side where her arm wasn't plastered and let Steve touch her hand. It soothed him momentarily, and Bruce sighed in relief.

Meanwhile, Natasha remained in a state of wavering conscious. Through the blackness that consumed her, she could clearly hear Steve's crying. She pushed up against the dark, but it pushed her twice as hard. She could hear him screaming for her, and it strengthened her resolve. It was when she felt Steve touch her hand that she pushed harder than ever and made a crack in the blackness. She pushed as hard as she could, and finally broke through.

Her eyes fluttered open, and immediately Steve's crying ceased.

"Mommy?" He asked, curiously

Natasha's eyes focused on Steve, and she smiled, despite the searing pain in her arm.

"How are you, sweetheart?" She asked, running her free hand through his hair.

He leaned down and hugged her, burying his face in her good shoulder. "Otay."

She winced in pain only once before wrapping her good arm around him.

"Mommy's here, sweetheart. Everything's alright now." She said in hopes of soothing him further. She glanced over to Bruce, who gave her a sympathetic smile. She felt Steve curl into her side and cling to her hospital gown, sucking his thumb as hard as he could, trying to tell himself everything was okay now and that he didn't need to be afraid anymore, but something in his mind wouldn't stop panicking.

She could feel his anxiety radiating across the room. She didn't blame him for panicking, but instead felt touched that he was so worried about her. She felt his hot tears soaking into her hospital gown and moved her hand to rubbing circles on his back. She prayed that his panic would soon subside, but until then she just hushed him as he bawled. The sobs resounded around the room and it made her feel guilty for even taking on the assignment in the first place. Steve, meanwhile, was inconsolable as he sobbed. The panic attack was making him even more wound up then he usually was. Bruce, sensing this, knelt down next to the bed.

"Steve?" He asked quietly. Steve looked at him, still clinging to Natasha. "Can you take a deep breath for me, son?"

Steve did.

"Good job. Can you try it again?"

The pattern repeated itself until, finally, his breathing slowed. His face was as red as a tomato, and tears still fell from his eyes, but he was breathing normally. He sat up, not letting go of Natasha, and said,

"I want Bucky." He said, sniffling.

"Okay, I'll go get him." Bruce replied, hoping to soothe him. When the eagle was in Steve's arms, he squeezed it tightly, a stray tear flowing down his cheek and landing on the eagle. He curled up against Natasha again, just as Clint, Tony, and Thor entered the room. Unsurprised at the scene before him, Clint was the first to approach Natasha.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Tired." She said quietly. She looked down to see Steve's eyes shut. She didn't know if he was sleeping or praying, but either way, she knew she didn't want to disturb him. She looked back at Clint, who was looking at Steve.

"Maybe we should all go," he suggested. "You need time to rest."

A firm "No" was the reaction they received.

"But-" Clint began, but was cut off by her insistent reply.

"He needs me right now, and I need him too. You all can go back to the tower. I just need some time with him, that's all."

Reluctantly, they all agreed and left her be with Steve. His vibrant blue eyes were open, and he was looking at her with his thumb absently in his mouth. When he realized what he was doing, he took his thumb out and blushed. Natasha simply took the thumb and placed it back in his mouth.

"That's alright, sweetheart. You can suck your thumb as long as you need to, okay?"

Steve nodded, sucking the digit calmly as he clung to his mother. Natasha pulled him into her side, stroking his hair softly before falling asleep.


	20. Homeward Bound

When Natasha awoke she was shocked and alarmed that Steve wasn't beside her. It wasn't until she heard suckling noises that her heart rate slowed to it's proper rhythm. She turned to see Steve sitting on a plastic chair, drinking his bottle.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?" She asked.

"Havin' a ba ba Mommy." Came the simple response.

"Where's Daddy and your uncles?" She asked, shocked that Steve had been allowed to feed himself.

"Daddy went for dinner. Uncle Tony, Uncle Cwint and Uncle Thor went to see someone."

A flash burn of anger swirled through her veins. They had left him alone- to feed himself no less. What if he'd needed changing?! The list of offenses ran through her mind, but she pushed it aside.

"Come here, sweetheart. Let Mommy feed you." Steve happily obliged and took the bottle from his mouth, a line of drool connecting them together as he crawled into the crook of Natasha's bad arm. With her good arm, she fed him and rocked him quietly until the bottle was gone. She moved to let him sit up, but he lay clinging to her chest like a cat. Something was wrong.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" She asked, rubbing his back. He looked at her with teary baby blues, and it broke her heart into pieces.

"No go bye-bye, Momma." He said, sniffling. Natasha sat there a moment, confused.

"What do you mean 'bye-bye', honey? Mommy's right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Steve sucked on his thumb, trying to express his meaning to her.

"Bwucky went bye-bye, Pweggy went bye-bye. No go bye-bye, Mommy."

For a moment her entire world stopped. He thought she was going to die. As she looked at the cast on her arm, she had to admit it looked formidable. She cuddled him close to her and kissed his forehead.

"Don't worry, baby. Mommy's not going bye-bye for a long time, okay?"

Hesitantly, Steve nodded. He stuck his thumb back in his mouth and cuddled up to her. He knew he shouldn't be scared, and that it was just a minor injury compared to what it could have been, but he was frightened. It looked so wrong to see Natasha in a hospital bed- she didn't belong there. Whimpering, he cuddled up closer to her and sucked his thumb just a bit harder. With her free hand, Natasha rubbed circles on his back and hushed him. He sniffled, and choked out,

"I want Daddy."

"Okay, baby boy, let's get Daddy." She reached for her cell phone and pushed the number 2 before pushing the green call button. She waited as the endless ringing went on and on, hyper aware of Steve's sniffing beside her. Finally, Bruce picked up.

"Hello?"

"Someone wants to see you." She said, knowing he would understand she was talking about Steve.

"I'll be done in a few minutes."

"Okay, see you then."

She flipped the phone shut, effectively ending the call, and set it aside.

"Daddy will be here in a few minutes, okay honey?"

Steve simply sniffed and nodded.

Bruce was in the room within five minutes. Steve smiled a little.

"Daddy, up!" He asked, reaching toward his father. Bruce happily obliged and picked him up, earning a few giggles from Steve. Natasha smiled at them both. Steve snuggled into Bruce's shoulder, trying to process the emotions he was feeling. Mommy was alright, and he was glad and happy about that, but she was also injured. He didn't want her to hurt herself further by trying to take care of him. He stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucking hard.

"Daddy." He said through his thumb.

"What is it, bud?" He asked quietly.

"No let Momma hwurt hewself." He said.

Bruce nodded. "No, we won't let her hurt herself." He said glancing at Natasha, who simply bore an amused grin.

"And how are you going to stop me?" She said, more sarcastically than intended. Steve turned his face out of Bruce's shoulder, and his baby blues held her in a vice grip when he said,

"Pwease, Momma." The two words were nearly overloaded with meaning, and she had to fight for control over her emotions again.

"Okay, baby. I won't do anything, alright, sweetheart?" She said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Steve, though still unsure, nodded, and reached for her with one hand. She took his hand gently in hers, a small reminder that she was here and safe. Bruce pulled up a chair and sat Steve on his lap, so he could still hold Natasha's hand while keeping his thumb in his mouth. The sucking calmed down his otherwise chaotic emotions, and lulled him into a place of serenity and tranquility. He didn't realize he was wet until Bruce mentioned it.

"I think it's time for a diaper check." He said, and laid Steve down. Steve, not used to all the fluorescent lighting, squinted as his Daddy changed him. When he finished, Steve went over and sat by Natasha.

"Mommy, when are you comin' home?"

Natasha wrestled with the question, before saying, "I'll be home before you know it."

"Will you be home in time for Christmas?" This was the dead serious question. She felt a pang of guilt that in all likelihood she wouldn't be home for the Holidays, something that had seemed unimportant before , but was now her top priority thanks to Steve. All she could do was give him extra cuddles as she said,

"I certainly hope so."

She had gotten all her ducks in a row when it came to Steve's Christmas presents. She knew where they were hidden, and what all they were. When Steve had fallen asleep, in a state of emotional exhaustion, she told Bruce where she'd been hiding the presents, just in case she didn't make it home. Steve didn't know if he believed in Santa, but he did believe in miracles. Meanwhile, while other little boys were wishing for toy cars or nerf guns, Steve had just one wish: He wanted his Mommy home for Christmas.


	21. Christmas

Snow blanketed the streets of New York City as the Holidays swept through. People bundled up in coats and scarves, toting their expensive gifts down icy streets. The snow, of course, wasn't piled on the roof of Stark Tower, which gleamed with cleanliness. Inside, Steve sat at his window watching the delicate flakes fall down. It was a day that reminded him of what he'd been through with Bucky, and the thought made his lip quiver. He still harbored an intense amount of guilt over Bucky's death, but since he'd been with Mommy and Daddy, it had lessened.  
A knock came to the door, and he looked to see Daddy there. Daddy had been taking care of him while Mommy was in the hospital. He loved Daddy taking care of him, but couldn't help but want Mommy back. There were just some things Mommy did that Daddy couldn't do- Like sing to him when he was scared, or hold him in a way that made everything okay. Unchecked tears fell down his cheeks, and Bruce went over to him and set him in his lap. Steve leaned on his father's shoulder as he wept, sobbing quietly. Bruce wrapped his arms around Steve protectively, and waited for the tears to subside.

"What's wrong, bud?" He asked. He sometimes had Trouble being affectionate, but Steve had opened him up to a lot. Steve buried his face in Bruce's neck. He didn't want to talk, because he didn't exactly know what was wrong. It was everything. Mommy wasn't there, it was his first Christmas in the future and it made him feel isolated and alone, and on top of all of that he felt guilty over Bucky. He simply shook in reply.

"Daddy..." he said, miserably. Bruce's grip on him tightened. He ran his fingers through Steve's hair, hoping to calm him some. He was in distress, Bruce instinctively knew that. He picked him up and walked around the room until the sobs subsided.

"I want Mommy." He said, sniffing. "Lonely."

Bruce was unsurprised at the first comment- they'd gone to the hospital every day since Natasha was admitted, but the second surprised him. He hadn't ever thought Steve to be lonely. He always seemed so... Confident. Bruce sat down and set Steve on his lap.

"You're never alone." Bruce replied. Steve looked up at him, curious. How was he not alone? He was a man out of time, a soldier out of his battlefield.

"You have every Avenger beside you, backing you up and cheering you on. You are never on your own. They're here for you. Just like Mommy and I." He said, looking Steve right in the eye. It was in that small space of time that Steve realized what had been in front of him all along. He was blessed with family, and it had taken until now for him to realize just what that meant. He wasn't as alone as he thought- he had people to rely on, depend on. He'd been blessed with parents and Uncles who loved him, and it wasn't something he could take for granted. He snuggled into Bruce and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Thank you." He said, quietly.

"Anytime, son." Came the reply.

Quickly the days melted into one another until at last Christmas Eve had come upon them. Bruce had gone with Steve to Mass, where the church had been decorated with garlands. They twinkled with lights that made Steve's eyes go wide with beauty. When they arrived back at Stark Tower, the living room had been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. The fireplace was ablaze, and a large decorated tree graced the opposite side. Steve's eyes lit up with childlike wonder. He dimly remembered struggling for food and unable to do much for Christmas, so seeing trees, lights, and cheerful songs were in vast contrast to the Christmas he'd known. Bruce came behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. Steve looked up at him, smiling. Bruce ruffled his hair in response. When he tucked Steve in that night, he read him The Night Before Christmas. Steve fell into an easy sleep, while Bruce was up late with Christmas plans. He was going to give Steve the best Christmas ever. Unbeknownst to Steve, Natasha had at last been released from SHIELD's Intensive Care Unit. He was meeting her tonight to plan her surprise homecoming. While Steve slept, Bruce and Natasha plotted the biggest Christmas surprise Stark Tower had ever seen.

Steve woke up bright and early as usual, particularly chipper because of Christmas. He got up, propelled by holiday cheer, and was happy to see Bruce already sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come out. He got up and ruffled Steve's hair gently.

"Good morning." He said, smiling.

"Morning, Daddy." Came the reply.

"Are you ready to open your presents?" Bruce asked, knowing what the answer would be. Steve's eyes sparkled and he nodded. Tony had of course bought copious amounts of presents for the occasion, and each Avenger had at least fifteen gifts to open. Natasha's pile, unforgotten, Steve noted, laid untouched. He looked at the pile forlornly as he unwrapped his presents. There were dozens of plushies, tons of clothes, and a few more bottles, but the one thing Steve wanted the most hadn't come. Perhaps Santa hadn't heard his desperate pleas after all. Just when his hope was dying down, Bruce asked,

"What did you ask Santa for for Christmas?" feeling teary eyed, he replied,

"I asked for Mommy to come home."

"Well how can I come home if I'm already here?" Came a familiar voice. Steve whipped his head around to see Natasha standing in the living room doorway, shoulder healed completely.

"Mommy!" Came the joyous cry, and he ran up to her. She embraced him with warm and caring arms, holding him as he cried happily. The other Avengers watched the scene with smiles and bright eyes. Natasha never let Steve go as he shook with happy tears. If he didn't believe in Santa as a child, he certainly did now. It was a Christmas miracle. As Natasha held onto him, she silently thanked God that he had allowed her to heal so that she could experience her first Christmas as a Mommy. Squeezing him tight, she whispered,

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."


End file.
